blog.pamandphil.com» Photographs | One Year In India

Fender Splendour

Phil — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 09:19:54 +0000

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I love the way the kids detail their bikes…

Kumkuma

Phil — Tue, 12 May 2009 15:45:59 +0000

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Venu came running up the front steps with a handful of red powder and a wooden stem broken from a stick of incense. He went around to the side of the porch and ran some water from the spigot there into his hand and came right back, looking like he was bleeding from an artery, speaking at me in rapid-fire Telugu and pointing frenetically at my forehead with the stick.

This could only mean one thing: it’s time for a makeover !!

He dipped the stick into the thick red goop in his hand; then deftly pressed it to my forehead and removed it again in a single motion, leaving behind this perfectly vertical red mark.

The red stuff is a powder called kumkum, but Venu and his family call it “kumkuma” as they speak Telugu. These marks are, as I understand it, primarily a Hindu custom, and it originated long long ago with blood sacrifices. As messy animal sacrifices became less fashionable, the powdered kumkum eventually took its place; serving the same wide variety of purposes, but without making so much noise. The velvet adhesive dots of various colors and the jewelesque adhesive Bindis are also descended from the same origins. Anyway, these particular kumkum marks indicate to which of the many manifestations of the Hindu goddess you are devoted; in the case of this single vertical line, I think it indicates devotion to Shakti and/or Lakshmi. And though this is a primarily Hindu thing, forehead decoration in general here is for anyone to enjoy.

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Lizard Luck

Phil — Sun, 10 May 2009 12:23:03 +0000

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Bhaskar says geckos are considered bad luck in India. We have loads of them, so who knows what that means… but he also says if you are a man, and a gecko falls from a tree onto your right shoulder, it is good luck; for women, if the gecko lands on the left shoulder it is good luck. Anywhere else and it’s bad. Very, very bad.

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Where The Rubble Comes From

Phil — Sun, 10 May 2009 08:30:43 +0000

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India has great rubble. This shot from a walk we took yesterday, southbound away from town on Bannerghatta Road.

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How To Make Bamboo Blinds

Phil — Sat, 09 May 2009 19:33:47 +0000

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This lady is making bamboo blinds. Using some sort of rocks-as-counterweights contraption, she somehow weaves the bits together. Don’t even get me started on her husband, who was making huge bamboo ladders with a machete and, um… bamboo. They were both working, and probably living, by the side of the road; and by “road,” I mean Bannerghatta Road, a freaking major artery full of traffic and craziness. Wow :)

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Views From A Tuk-Tuk

Phil — Sat, 09 May 2009 15:52:55 +0000

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Left, right and center views from the back seat of a tuk-tuk. Proving once again conclusively that Indian children are the most beautiful beings on the planet.

These shots were snapped from the back seat of a tuk-tuk coming home from work. We had pulled to a stop. I looked left, and saw this lovely family of three on a scooter, with the little girl sandwiched in between mama and papa. Smiles and flirtations from the little girl, beams of pride from the parents. Photos happened. Looking front and center, you can see what I saw: the driver’s back and a broken meter. Looking right, a tuk-tuk jammed full with schoolgirls talking on cellphones and looking at me with happy curiosity. Photos happened. I have never seen more beautiful smiles than here in India.

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Suspect Womit

Pam — Sun, 03 May 2009 12:00:59 +0000

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Stellah is a gadfly, a transplant from an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, now living in New York, with a style that spans decades and an accent that at some point, long ago, was identifiable as Australian. I have dined on elegant meals with her on the East and West coasts. Sushi topped with seared foie gras in San Francisco, poached egg drizzled with truffle oil at 4 AM in SOHO after a night of drinking absinthe at a gas-lit bar. She is the one person I simply let order for me.
Now, in a filthy restaurant in Mysore, India, we were sitting across from each other staring down our highly suspect thalis. They had been slopped out of crusty brass buckets onto our banana leaves by a waiter in a filthy uniform. A mound of rice in the center, surrounded by splotches of what looked to be different varieties of small animal “womit,” as they say in India, like a sadistic science display where you’re meant to match the animal with their barf.

Stellah pinches a bit of rice and places it on her tongue. The rest of us tentatively do the same. Within a few minutes Stellah, Cara, Cleveland and I have channeled our inner toddlers and are eating like natives. The meal is both delicious and disgusting.

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Garden Gecko

Phil — Fri, 01 May 2009 20:16:43 +0000

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We love these little guys and they are everywhere. In the house, on a towel, behind a door, and in this case, on the front porch. They do good things.

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Welcome And Enojy The Day

Phil — Fri, 01 May 2009 20:05:42 +0000

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It really is nice to wake up and find this stuff on your doorstep. These are little sand pieces, and before too long they get brushed away by the dog and blown away by the wind.

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Unmeatly Body ?

Phil — Fri, 01 May 2009 19:58:31 +0000

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Click the image to enlarge; then, you must read this whole thing out loud. With an audience, preferably, but even if you are alone. The whole thing. This sign was posted outside a tent by side of the road. You going in? I’m not going in.

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